Koan Night
by Banjodog
Summary: Re-uploaded. Kaiba muses the night before Battle City.


Koan Night

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! and all related characters therein do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: A Kaiba character sketch as he muses the night before Battle City.

_Koan: (n.) A riddle in the form of a paradox used in Zen Buddhism as an aid to meditation and means of gaining intuitive knowledge._

__

Kaiba exhaled slowly, letting the puff of smoke drift lazily out and fade against the twinkling city lights. The seventeen year old millionaire did not often smoke, but here, high above Domino city with nothing but a now crumpled cigarette box and tattered copy of _'Julius Caesar_' as company, it seemed the perfect night for it. He knew he had things to do. There were problems to solve and phone calls to make, but for the moment, he did not care. His entire life consisted of cell phones and stolen naps on his office couch, and so he seized every moment of solitude he could, even if he had to take it by force.

With a sharp flick of the wrist, Kaiba tossed his cigarette to the side to let it burn on the cool cement. He stood, leaving his spot near the door and walked to the edge to lean on the chain link fencing that seperated him from space. The KaibaCorp building was not the tallest skyscraper in the city, but it did not need to be, for the tower had a presence that the other architects had failed to capture...a firm and steady column that would take beyond a Herculean effort to topple.

'_Who else would soar above the view of men, and keep us all in servile fearfulness?'_

Flavius' words echoed quietly in Kaiba's mind, and his fingers curled more tightly on the wire. Gozaburo had ruled the company with an iron fist, striking down any enemy with no regards for the practical. Seto was different. He had risen to the same heights, but he had tact. People respected him, his power and unparalleled abilities. He was the tiger to Gozaburo's snake, the wolf to his vulture. Seto had always known that a company's most dangerous enemy was a vindictive former employee, and Gozaburo had to learn it the hard way. Gozaburo had ruled the city, whereas Seto _owned_ it.

Yes.

He owned the city, and tomorrow it would become a battlefield. It was to be a battle royale that had already garnered international attention, but the few who knew the truth behind it all were not surprised. Seto Kaiba was hardly the first person to wage war in the search for the power of God, nor was he likely to be the last.

Kaiba let himself slide to his knees, his fingers running loosely down the fencing. He could see the reflection of the KaibaCorp logo in the glass windows of the opposite building, its blue light a pale imitation of the force that drove it. With his shoulders dropping under the quietest of sighs, Kaiba slumped to the ground and turned away, his back now resting against the cement hedge that held the fence in place. With a tilt of the head, the city lights gave way to a dark sky and a thin tower with a blinking red light at the top. Soon Kaiba found himself staring at the red light, the minutes turning long and heavy around him. He knew that this is where he belonged--in a world of wires and steel, and where angels were drawn out on the stock's ticker tapes. There were ways to escape, but Kaiba didn't particularly care. He didn't have the time for it.

A muffled beeping broke the bubble of silence that had surrounded Kaiba, but the watch went unchecked. He knew it was late, and that he should get to bed, but he was too tired to sleep. He was vaguely hungry, though, and he figured that would be the thing to bring him inside. However, for the moment, he was perfectly content to remain where he was.

"I made this," Kaiba murmured to himself as he continued to stare at the red light. An odd mixture of trepidation and sadness settled in his stomach, and Kaiba turned his gaze down to the ground between his feet. Over the years he had been the subject of "rags to riches" magazine covers, as well as lawsuits and investigations, but those didn't bother him. They never had. What bothered him was something completely different.

'_I'm dying. And I don't know why.'_

It had been a gradual sensation, starting with extra glances out the window, and short displays of temper that resulted in the replacement of more than one vase and picture frame. A few months gave way to impossible notions such as turning an entire city into a dueling arena, and frequent

desires to be alone.

Wild animals always sought a secret place to die.

It was something that gnawed on the edges of his being, wearing him ragged. It wasn't the company or its responsibilities--he was far too used to both to notice them anymore. No, it had started after the first duel with Yuugi, and he was dealt his first defeat.

'_Where did he come from, anyway?'_ Kaiba thought angrily as he unconsciously clenched his fists. His rival had seemed to materialize from out of thin air, with a talent to best the world champion and a determination to overcome the odds.

Kaiba's subtle, slow loss of control began just as the duel ended and he collapsed. Yuugi had done something to him that day, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was, nor could he prove it. They had been in a brand new dueling arena, one that didn't even have security cameras installed yet. Of his languor, he could remember just pieces of it, usually vague images that would ghost in front of him right as he would start to fall asleep. He could never recall those dreams in the morning, but he knew that there was one feeling that would stay with him the rest of his life: the moment just before he fell unconscious, and he felt as though his blood had turned to water, and all his breath was sucked from him as an intense pressure and cold pierced the spots behind his eyes.

Kaiba had awakened the next day in the hospital, with a splitting headache and a distinct impression that something was...off. From that day, everywhere he went, it felt as though he were walking on ground that was always slanted to the side, and a constant low hum would reverberate in his ears. The doctors had told him that he may have damaged his inner ear when he fell—which would account for the obscure sense of vertigo when he stood or walked--but he knew it was something else. Yuugi had done something to him, and its residual effects were causing his control and identity to deteriorate.

Giving a quiet huff, Kaiba drew his knees up tighter to his chest and stretched his neck forward so he could bury his head in his crossed arms. He was tired of feeling like this....of seeing mouths that didn't move in time with their voices, and of always feeling like he was missing, or forgetting something. He was tired of having a memory right on the tip of his tongue but never being able to reach it or let it disappear completely.....it corroded him endlessly. He was reduced to having everything in the world except a decent night's rest.

A sudden breeze came up, ruffling Kaiba's chocolate brown hair and penetrating his black turtleneck. His khaki slacks also did little to protect him, but instead of curling up tighter, Kaiba let himself unfold into an ungraceful splay of long limbs so the cold wind could wash over him. Over the past year, Kaiba had discovered that the cold could numb him far better than any drink or drug ever could. It was the only thing that ever gave him any sort of relief, as it dulled the irritants to almost nonexistance. And it was for this reason that the employees at KaibaCorp would bring their sweaters into work, and Mokuba would jokingly make a point of wearing his coat and gloves around the house. Mokuba, Seto knew, was a crucial tether to his rationality.

A quiet rustling of paper drew Seto's attention back to the spot near the door. The binding on his book was coming undone, and the well thumbed pages fluttered dangerously in the wind. With a resigned sigh, Kaiba pulled himself back up and dusted his pants off. He crossed the distance to the door with uncharacteristically languid strides and picked up his book. He ran his fingers across the title before giving a gentle tug and pulling the pages away from the spine. The cover fell back to the ground, and Kaiba flipped through the paper in his hand. It was time he went in. There was going to be a tournament tomorrow...one that he planned to win. Yuugi would come to him, and he would bring with him the remaining God Cards....the final power that would at last bring him peace.

And besides, he was hungry.

Kaiba let go of the pages, the wind immediately picking them up and carrying them out across the city. Smiling grimly, Kaiba quietly slipped back inside and let the door shut behind him.

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war."

FINI


End file.
